Poorly dressed, she was married off to a lame hunter in the village for 30 taels of silver at the beginning.
On the wedding night, he said he didn't want to marry, and she said she didn't want to marry.
High-fives and vows: a one-year agreement, if it doesn't work, we'll leave!
Later, she discovered that he was literate and had been poisoned by arrows. He was no ordinary hunter.
His widowed mother behaved as if she had come out of the palace.
The one-year appointment had arrived, and she handed over the letter of departure.
But he folded it into a paper kite and gave it to her: Madam, can you extend it for another year?
Intention: The most practical love is never grand, but only grows over time.